


The Most Important Mission

by hotchoco195



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce being argumentative and wrong, Clint being a BFF, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Natasha being her tricky self, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Romance, Travelling the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotchoco195/pseuds/hotchoco195
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate reality in which Natasha is not content to let a man run out on her, even one as unusual as Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Important Mission

Clint leaned against the wall of the cargo bay with his arms crossed, watching Steve and Thor help usher Sokovians onto the airport tarmac for processing. Nat sidled up beside him, cat-like and quiet in civilian clothes. He didn’t turn his head.

“You’re gonna break Cap’s heart.”

“He’s a big boy,” she said coolly, “He’ll get over it.”

Clint smiled. “Good huntin’, Tash.”

She kissed his cheek and strode away looking purposeful, joining the stream of refugees.

 

It wasn’t surprising that Bruce had run; he’d been doing it for years - Nat was amazed the team had managed to pin him down as long as they had. What baffled her was that he’d done it as Hulk. The two sides of him _never_ got along, but apparently they both thought he should be as far from people (as far from Nat) as possible.She didn’t think much of their collective brainpower if either of them really expected her to just let Bruce disappear. After what Wanda had done, after the exhaustion of holding off Ultron, Nat was tired and sad and the only person she wanted to tell was gone.

Natasha hadn’t felt hope for a very long time, and she wasn’t giving it up without a fight.

*****

There were a lot of ways for an ex-Red Room agent to make money but Nat stuck to the mostly legal ones: underground fighting, back room poker and the occasional favour for an old contact. She had no idea where Bruce was and her best leads were back at SHIELD, but she’d needed to get out of there before they took her further away from his last known location. Besides, they weren’t the only organisation with eyes in the sky.

In Bucharest she got a telegram full of numbers from a dusty-looking man whose hands shook; he coughed so hard his lungs rattled, and Nat thought if Bruce was there he could have done something about it. That night her dreams were full of metal men and the sparks of machine-gun fire.

She followed the co-ordinates to an island somewhere south of Japan, hiring a fisherman with a tiny skiff to take her out past the sandbars, and as they coasted across the waves she felt so small, and so meaningless, and so alive.

Bruce wasn’t there but the plane was, the wreckage tangled in the reef. Nat knew he couldn’t have drowned, clutched at that truth like a life raft. The fisherman turned their boat around and Natasha took out her map, marking all the places a giant could go to be alone. Bruce’s goal was to get away from people but she knew him; he wouldn’t be able to keep to himself for long. The doctor’s greatest wish was to make amends, to use his brain for good to make up for the evils of his body, to balance those he could save against those he hurt. And he’d keep moving, not getting attached, staying ahead of SHIELD and the army and anyone who might look for him – but not Natasha.

There was no sign of him in Okinawa but in Taipei she found a man raving about a green monster who’d crawled out of the sea, and a nurse at a dirty, ill-equipped clinic said a nervous American had lent them a hand for a few days. It might not have been much, but finding difficult people was what Nat did. In a grimy hotel over a sub-par noodle house, she got a message from Clint that told her what she already knew. _Found the plane. No sign of him_. Natasha couldn’t help feeling grateful for the lack of news. At least they hadn’t found a body.

She followed Bruce to the other side of Taiwan and down to Manila, trekking through a dozen mountain villages and wondering how long he thought he could stay off the radar; everywhere she went people were eager to share stories of the white doctor and how he’d helped the children or saved their grandfather or left his medicines behind. Bruce might not think he made much of a difference to the world but Nat could see it, and sooner or later someone else would too.

From the Philippines he went to Mauritius, perhaps a random choice, perhaps an attempt to throw any followers off his trail – but it didn’t shake Nat, the redhead’s gaze sharp as ever as she rode through the main streets of Port Louis with sweat running down her neck. Further inland she met a baby he’d helped deliver and thought of Clint, and wondered if she was an aunt again.

After Mauritius he’d gone to the mainland and started working through the worst parts of Africa, the warzones and killing grounds where people truly needed help but usually couldn’t get it. Natasha understood; foreign soldiers weren’t something Bruce feared – it was the ones at home who haunted him. They were the ones with the cages and schemes. Nat attracted a lot of interest but she didn’t have trouble deterring those who thought she was easy prey, and with each new refugee camp and burnt-out town her heart ached with the weight of human cruelty. She’d told Loki she didn’t care about regimes and that was true, but she cared about women with blood on their faces and children screaming for their fathers, and she wondered how Bruce could bear it.

She got close outside Cairo, so close his sheets were still rumpled, but the hotel staff didn’t know where he’d gone and she didn’t pick up his trail again for days. Nat cried then, curled up under her covers where no one could see, where she could be lonely and heartsick for a minute or two. To come so close and fail was worse than anything; it made her feel as though she could almost touch Bruce, his spectre just out of arm’s reach, and it only made her more desperate for the real thing.

He’d booked a flight out of Istanbul; he’d taken a train across Bulgaria. He’d bought a $200 car from a widow outside Gdansk and driven it up to St Petersburg – and then he was in her country, and Nat smiled at the idea he might be looking for somewhere that reminded him of her, and felt the first waves of relief since they’d parted. He couldn’t hide from her here; these were her hunting grounds, and her loyal dogs were everywhere.

*****

Natasha walked into the grey cinderblock building, hair hidden under a grey scarf. The waiting room was busy, parents holding coughing children in their laps, old men nodding at the nurses behind the front desk. She sidestepped them and slipped down the hall, stopping outside the doctor’s office. She opened the door and there he was: looking older and tattered with his sleeves rolled up and his coat over the back of his chair, filling out paperwork.

“Masha, could you grab me some more cotton pads? I’m all out…” he raised his head, gaping at her.

Nat smirked. “Sorry I didn’t make an appointment, but I’m hoping you can squeeze me in.”

“Tasha?” he stood, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you, if you still want me.”

He clenched his jaw. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous.”

“This is my home field, doc. I couldn’t be safer.”

“ _I’m_ too dangerous.”

“Hulk’s never hurt me.”

“He’s tried.” Bruce spat, and they both knew she couldn’t refute that.

The redhead closed the door behind her, watching him through her lashes. “Hulk can be a catastrophic force, yeah. I’ve seen it. But I’ve been following you for eight months and I’ve also seen how much good you do. You help people, Bruce. You’re so much more than just Hulk.”

“But he’s the half that matters.”

“Not to me,” she said firmly, voice suddenly small, “I missed _you_.”

“I missed you,” he echoed, lips twitching, “But we can’t be together, Nat. I can’t be with anyone, no matter how great they are.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t control him.”

“You’ve been doing it since you joined the team without a single incident, until Maximoff played with your brain – and I think that counts as extraordinary circumstances.”

Bruce gave her a wry look. “There’s a reason I helped Tony build the Veronica failsafe; why we came up with the lullaby. Hulk can never be trusted, not enough to risk someone I care about as much as I care about you.”

Natasha sat on the corner of his desk, eyes bright as she held his gaze. “Bruce, one of the things I like most about you is that I feel truly comfortable with you. That’s pretty rare for me. You make it okay to be vulnerable; I know you won’t judge me, or take advantage of my weaknesses. I trust you – _all_ of you – even if you don’t.”

“It’s not good enough, Tash. Don’t you see what you’re asking me? Do you think I could stand it if I hurt you? I’d hate myself.”

She raised a hand to cup his cheek. “Bruce, you’re in charge. Not him. Hulk is a powerful ally but you’re the one with the brains and the good heart. You’ve fought long and hard to make sure he doesn’t define you, and I know you feel like you’ve lost but you haven’t.”

 

She stroked her thumb across the corner of his lip. “We’re both scared, maybe for different reasons but it’s true. And you make me feel like I could be brave enough to do this relationship thing, and put myself out there. Believe me, I’m way more afraid of getting emotionally scarred than any physical damage Hulk could do.”

“Tasha…” he sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned into her hand, “You’re the smartest, most capable woman I’ve ever met but you don’t know what you’re asking. It’s impossible.”

“I’m also an adult, Bruce. I know you, and I know Hulk, and if I wanna be with you then you don’t get to dismiss me by saying I haven’t thought it through. If you’re not interested, just say so. I can take it.”

Bruce’s eyes snapped open, burning fiercely as he set his jaw. “I’m interested.”

“Then quit the self-flagellation for a minute and take something you want. You deserve to be happy.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then nobody does.”

He stared at her for a long minute. “Tasha, I’m…I am afraid. Of more than just Hulk. It’s been years since I’ve been close to anyone and I’m not sure I can let my guard down enough to give you what you deserve.”

“Same here,” she shrugged, “We can work it out.”

“Or we can make a giant mess.”

Natasha smirked. “I promise not to beat you up when we argue.”

He laughed. “I promise not to Hulk out when other guys hit on you.”

“Is that a yes then?” she murmured, smiling.

“If you’re still okay with becoming a nomad,” he frowned, “I can’t go back to the team, Nat. I won’t put Hulk in the middle of the fight again – too many people get hurt.”

“I’m tired of washing blood off my hands.”

He half-stood to close the distance between them and kissed her, arms wrapping around her waist as she clung to his shoulders. This wasn’t like the kiss in Strucker’s dungeon; that had been an ambush and an apology and a possible goodbye, rushed and desperate and over before it began. This kiss was a promise, a whisper of trust that spread through Natasha’s bones like sunlight, a hint of long-restrained passion waiting to spill over. It was everything she’d been waiting for.

They broke apart, Bruce chuckling softly as Nat rested her head on his collarbone. He stroked a gentle hand down her spine, grasping at her curls.

“You’ve really been following me all this time?”

“I thought you might have noticed by now.”

He shook his head. “I had no idea. I guess I should have figured, huh?”

“Did you really think I’d give up on you that easy?”

Bruce smiled. “Nah. I’m gettin’ the impression I’m stuck with you now.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Definitely not.”

 

Bruce still had work left to do at the clinic, and Nat was happy to stay where they were for the moment; it gave her time to make herself a ghost. She still needed some connections and safe houses to keep unfriendly parties off Bruce’s trail, but she spread the word that Black Widow was out of the business and tied off all her loose ends.

She settled into a new routine. Every day she went to the market and got ingredients for dinner, trying out new recipes and old favourites she could share with Bruce when he got home, and they practiced doing nothing together, lazing on the couch in a comfortable embrace. The doctor wasn’t quite ready for anything more yet and Natasha understood; the way they curled around each other in their sleep was enough for her, for now.

When Bruce started getting twitchy she knew it was time to move on; he walked into the kitchen with a cloud on his face to find her at her laptop.

“There’s a flight to Sao Paolo at 9am tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

He snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “Are you really sure you wanna do this? My life’s not glamorous, Nat. It’s not stable. It’s not a house and two kids and a dog.”

She turned her face to catch his lips, smiling into the kiss. “I’m more of a cat person anyway.”

“You _know_ that wasn’t my point.”

“Bruce,” she said firmly, “I’ve spent my life following orders. This is the first thing I’ve ever done that’s just for me, and it feels amazing. So unless you have another destination in mind, I’m gonna book us two tickets to Brazil, and then I’m gonna pack. Okay?”

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re so stubborn.”

“One of my better qualities.” The redhead smirked.

“Alright!” he released her and walked over to a stack of thin notebooks on the bedside table, “I’ll start brushing up on my Portuguese.”

He sorted through the books, grumbling under his breath and shaking his head some more but he couldn’t keep a smile off his face. He found the right one and took it to the couch, settling himself against the cushions with a studious, imposed-upon look that made Nat bite back a giggle. She picked up her laptop and joined him, tangling their feet together. Bruce wriggled closer, resting a hand on her thigh as he mouthed the words on his page, and Nat couldn’t imagine anyone in the world so adorable and so dorky at the same time.

She leaned into his shoulder, fingers dancing across the keys, and started planning their next adventure.

 


End file.
